As a child, I never knew what it was like to be picked last in P.E. class. Forgive my lack of modesty, but I was always good enough or popular enough to not be the last one standing. And the closest that I ever felt to it was from watching movies and seeing the expression on that one kid’s face who no one wanted. That one kid where a team would rather play one man short than bring onto the roster.
I did not grow up gaming. One, being my parents wouldn’t allow it. And two, being I’m a girl, which supposedly makes it socially unacceptable (or weird). I don’t have the mechanics to game. I’m not very good. I improve at snail pace. I play just to have fun, which ultimately means I lose more than I win. Despite all this, I actually enjoy it.
But no matter how happy I am to play, the buzz eventually dies when I can hear the frustration in the voices of my teammates/friends. I’m positive that if there was a team pick as in sports during P.E. class, I would be that one kid who no one wants. It is kind of really stupid that I should even be affected by any of this, but I actually get real fucking depressed sometimes. That is why I never really ask friends to play unless they ask me because you’d think that if they asked me, they wouldn’t get pissed when I suck. Most of the time they don’t, but after a few losing games, I’d rather rot in a hole than have to talk to anyone for the rest of the night. Bold assumptions, I know. But a person thinks what they feel, and my feelings tell me that I should just give it up if I ever want to be happier.
I think I’m better off playing candy crush where no one can ridicule my tactics and how I refuse to move on to the next level until I get all three stars. GGNORE.